Occult - Eva Belikov POV
by Aleyahx
Summary: Very basic summary: Eva is the daughter of Rose and Dimitri Belikov. The more you read, the more you find out. Although I will tell you that she has a truly unique gift and doesn't quite know how to use it. It revolves around Spirit. An element no Dhampir in any sense, should posses. But she is not a normal girl.
1. Chapter 1: Sheltered

_(I just want to share that when I browsed for Russian girl names I got "Vodka" and "Margerita" LOL XD)_

_{Very basic summary: Eva is the daughter of Rose and Dimitri Belikov. The more you read, the more you find out. Although I will tell you that she has a truly unique gift and doesn't quite know how to use it. It revolves around Spirit. An element no Dhampir in any sense, should posses. But she is not a normal girl.}_**  
**

Perhaps Abe Mazur was a little daunting in the eyes of another, and perhaps he _was _an excellent mastermind and an artful blackmailer, but he certainly wasn't as clever a sentry as his granddaughter was an escapee.  
The wintry air breathed lightly against the back of my exposed neck as I began to quicken my pace, and rounded the next corner. I tugged against the fleece coat to wrap myself up in it, it wouldn't be long before he found me again, but it was hardly very often I had the chance to go scouting in the streets of Missoula. There was a slight wave of guilt hanging over my head, for my grandfather only desired a night out with me, dinner and a movie; and I had stripped myself of any guardians in the finest and I mean _finest_ shred of hope that I could wander off successfully this time. I inwardly praised myself for it, he was my relation, after all.

Before I rounded the next corner, I heard the only other audible noise apart my treading into the sloshy footpaths; voices. I gripped the ice-capped brick wall of what might have been an old store, my fingers curled around the corner of it and I peered around, finding something entirely unexpected to my eyes. _Lone_ _Children_.

"Children?"

I spoke aloud, and I whipped around the corner with my back slamming into the side of the wall as indiscreetly as one could have possibly been. I may have had Dhampir genes, but I bore a closer physique of a typical Moroi. An ungraceful one at that.

"Who - Who's there?"

The voice hardly projected any sound, soft and afraid. I heard scuffling, and where I stood frozen, daring to run in the opposite direction, I had to remind myself that they were only children. Probably younger than I was. I made my move and rounded the corner, sticking closely to the wall. There was a boy, and he tilted his curious head forward, towards the little girl in the oversized frock.

"Who do you see?" He asked, his voice coarse and dry. He took a jagged step forward, hastily turning to allow his mellow eyes to wash over the unfamiliar figure. To wash over _me_ as I stepped into the light. He was slightly taller, leaner, but the appearance of him looming over her gave sight as he inched forward.

"I won't hurt you," I declared bravely, although I doubted they would see me as much of a threat. "I was just passing through."

The boy heaved a sigh, giving a lazy attempt at kicking up at the sleet. "You shouldn't be here," He spoke. "It can be dangerous at the late hour."

I scoffed, a small grin rising at a corner of my lip. "Dangerous, ha, I think I can handle it. Whatever _it _is."

I knew plenty of what _it _could be, but I figured there were no Strigoi lurking around here if a small boy and girl could survive it. Which brought me back to face him. "I really don't think _you _should be here. You should go home."

His eyes widened and then narrowed, the small girl never looked up as she sat on the ground with her arms wrapped around her legs.  
"Sheltered girl," he muttered, but my Dhampir hearing picked up on it. I gave him my best quizzical look and shifted slightly forward again until we were just a few feet away from one another.

"This _is _our home."

I gaped. "I - you - _what?_"

He gestured to the clearing where a few belongings were kept. And he was worried about _my_ safety, well I was too enveloped in the worry of _his_. His mouth opened and then closed, flickering to something in the distance and then back to me. I hugged myself uncomfortably and said the only thing my mind could process in the wake of this news.

"I'm -"

"Young lady!" I spun around on my heel, unnerved by the new voice, and even more so to see my Grandfather standing before me with his arms folded across his chest. Both of his guardians were standing within distance.

"Come," And he offered his hand. It was calmly voiced but I could see his face lined with distraught and a glint of anger in his dark, dark eyes. Eyes as dark as mine. His gaze was locked, never straying from mine, but I knew even he couldn't be oblivious to the children and their surroundings. To ensure this, I looked over my shoulder.

"They will be taken care of, don't you worry." An eyebrow quirked and I wondered what those words held.

"Taken care of, but h-"

"Yes," he interrupted. "I believe you've had your fun frolicking around foolishly, now it's time for us to go." I listened. With one more glimpse behind me, I waved, but it was unreturned. I followed Abe in silence, siding along with one of his guardians. They were very quick and one of the men ushered me into the SUV even going so far as to strap me in. I swatted at his hand, and believe me I tried, but he persisted. I settled for folding my arms defiantly instead.  
From the front passenger seat, my 'overjoyed' Grandfather glared at me.

"Eva." He growled in an undertone. "Just _what _were you thinking?"

"I was thinking at the time, why did those children have to sleep on the side-walk? And hey, why are we prancing about with silk scarves and they're trudging around in worn out frocks?"

Maybe the boy was right, maybe I _was _sheltered. I was born and raised at the Royal Court after all, and almost never stepped out in the outside world. And judging by the look on my Grandfather's face, I wouldn't be stepping out again, any time soon. So apparently where I came from, they didn't believe in telling us the truth.

"You are young," He spoke a level above a whisper. "Some day you will understand, but for now I believe we're better off heading back to Court and we can continue this discussion at another time." That was a statement not a question and I didn't dare to prompt him for any more answers just yet.

"Well, I had a nice evening."

He smiled, and if I didn't know any better, he looked a little worn out. So help me if I actually gave the old man a run for his money, but he knew, as well as any one else that I was to be securely guarded at all times.  
Why? Because I was the wondrous daughter of two acclaimed Dhampirs of course. No _seriously_. Well okay, If you asked _most _people I was, but the other half (pompous Royals of course) claimed I was roguish when I wasn't under the eye of my parents, always looking for a way to find me out. However I disagree. But to the world of the Moroi and Dhampirs alike, I truly was a miracle in itself, for no two Dhampirs were able to conceive children together.

My mother was shadow-kissed with spirit lingering within her, and my father was a Strigoi-saved-Dhampir. So I guess the strength of two lives that had to be regained, only created a stronger bond that allowed me to be brought me into the world. This was legend, it was a life of no other. None other than mine.


	2. Chapter 2: Wairua

"You _lost _her!"

It wasn't really a question, my father rather declared it, an incredulous expression crossing his features. "And yet here she is, in one perfectly insubordinate piece, her inclined acts of mischief unwavering." My grandfather Abe's sarcasm practically dripped off of his fanged teeth and I scowled before bowing my head quickly to avert the regret in my father's eyes. Regret of having let me go, and not knowing that it was on my mind for quite some time.

"Very well then," Abe cut in, avoiding further discussion. "I'll see you all tomorrow at the Royal Banquet." He let a few seconds of silence pass, a little hesitant when he added, "Oh and Dimitri, she hasn't eaten anything yet." With a very Abe-like nod of curtness, he left much quicker than he had appeared. I paused, apprehensive and a little pissed off by the sudden abrasiveness.

My dad quirked an eyebrow and gestured to a seat in the dining room. We had a nice house, very cosy and top quality for a Dhampir residing at the Royal Academy. Although, I was treated like anything _other _than a Dhampir, they even went so far as to discuss potential guardians for _me _when I came of age.

Meanwhile I struggled to persuade them that I was more than willing to become a guardian myself. I never liked to be babied, but that was exactly what the people of my world were doing; apparently I needed to breed before they could take their eyes off of me for just one second and focus upon more important things like, oh I don't know, the _law _and the _Strigoi_.

Which, speaking of, had only heard of me through a vine of whispers but had already found enough of that enmity within them to spare some for me. It was probably because I was the beginning of a new race among the already existing one they had tried to kill off for an eternity.

A waft of the heated up leftovers permeated the air, my brows contracted into a frown and I scrunched my nose up as I drew out a seat. I didn't have an unhealthy aversion to food, but I did have a very small appetite and didn't need much fuel to start a fire. In other words, I could live off more or less of what the Moroi take, _minus _the blood sucking thing, and feel content with it. But I wasn't so lucky, my parents were persistent in having me eat a regular diet. And if that pacified the arguments, then it was fair to try, I guess, but the food kind of sucked.

"_All _or _most _of it, Eva." I expelled a breath as a particular memory of when I was only four ceased my mind. It had always been this way, I recalled, and I fell into a trance like state that was more consistent as of late, and I swore to myself that I would catch up on my sleep.

_I had used the spoon as a catapult, filling the mushy green food onto it with a devious grin upon my features.  
_  
_My father was displeased at the outburst but my mother responded with,"There are many crises in the world, spinach on the wall isn't one of them." He sighed, almost appearing defeated. Or tired of the same games.  
_  
_"It's not what is, but what will become of it,"  
_  
The flashback ended.

And I had barely a moment to process what had just happened before firm fingers gripped my arm and stood me up before releasing me to stare bewildered at the mess upon the wall. The wall of now, not the one of my past. My eyes were dark and wide, a protest dying on my lips when he chastised me. "Eva Rozalina Olei Belikov." I wanted to declare my innocence, but instead I bit my retort on my lip, for I rarely made my father mad and I did not like it at all.

"Clean this up, and then go straight to your room."

I didn't know what happened, and I wasn't aware of my subconscious act. For it must have been, but I couldn't argue, not exactly. Not when I wasn't so sure of it myself.

And so I threw myself onto my bed, the purple duvet was in contrast to rest of the stark coloured room. I never had an eye for fashion, and I never did look so nice in pink, and yellow with my dark reddy-brown hair made me look like a walking lavatory bowl. Or so Iolanthe says. She is Adrian's daughter, a twin to Isaiah, and Adrian was officially declared crazy in my book, because he seems to think he's married to the capitol of New South Wales. I think he drinks too much. But their mother is pretty, I never quite caught her name. I've asked, but they just keep bringing up Australia again. If they loved it so much they could have just moved there.

I tossed and I turned, doubtful of my own sanity and trying to come up with a reasonable conclusion to what had happened back there in the kitchen; and before I knew it, I was lulled into a dream. Or so I believed until it morphed into a vision of pure darkness, spine-chilling images spinning into a whirlwind wrapping around my mind, forcing themselves upon me and I couldn't escape. I wanted to scream, and maybe I was but all I could hear was an ear-splitting shriek, so shrill that I thrashed and writhed to find release.

_You can't fight it. _A voice said, or maybe it was the whistling of the wind battling against my eardrums.

_You're unique, but you can't fight what you were born to become._

I threw my arms out in front of me, futile protection, I couldn't see them, but I could see my fingertips and they were... _glowing._ Purple tinged to the tips, emitting into a vibrant colour and I twitched, feeling _emotion._ I felt it in the air, carried by the nearest soul, and I tried to find it but I was enshrouded in wicked gloom once more. I felt distress, I saw it hovering in the air like an orb. I saw it dissipate. I felt absence.

And then it vanished.


	3. Chapter 3: The Sovereign's choice

It was only short lived, but I awoke hours later. My mother had always been the one to calm me and reassure me that they were only night terrors, but it was beoming a reoccuring thing. The most indecipherable part being that it was beginning to happen in my waking hours too. I'd have moments where I felt as if the darkness was overcoming me, and it frightened me with every second I endured it. The last thing I wanted though, was to end up in a mental aslym, or worse, in a federation with Adrian, so I kept quiet about the extensive part of it.

I wrapped my own blanket around me, for my mother wasn't anywhere in sight. I rubbed my heavy eyes and rolled over to glance at the ticking clock.

"Ah, _Vladimir_." I shot up, throwing the duvet off and dragged my somnolent self into the bathroom. I was late, again.

I ran a brush hastily through the knots of my dark reddy-brown curls, shining auburn colours underneath the bathroom light, but it otherwise appeared brown and that's how I preferred it. I was out the door no later than a minute after, and since I was running the risk of tardiness, I cut through the backway of royal housing.

_Only _to hear a rustling of leaves, branches bristling. I paused, and there was no sign of wind or any light breeze, something my Dhampir side taught me was that any noise could be detrimental to your hearing if you weren't precautious.

"Why are you always following me?"

Evan Frederick Dragomir, was hanging from a tree. "You know, it's not always about you," he smirked.

"Then what are you doing!" I asked impatiently, wherever I seemed to be, he followed shortly after. In a lot of ways it pained me not to understand how he knew exactly where I was at any time of the day he wanted to start flipping from tree's just to follow me. "And why are you hanging from a tree?"

"I'm hiding." he replied, completed dry and seemingly composed. "What are you hiding from?" My eyes grew wide and I looked up, his eyes as azure as the deepest part of the ocean. He smirked again, a trademark of his and passed over the question. "Care to join me?" I thought he was kidding until he extended an arm and kicked his legs to swing forward and take hold of my hand.

"Uh, no. Monkey sees… but monkey does not do."

"I always saw you as some kind of primate," a grin flashed mockingly. My eyes turned to slits and I pulled my hand back gripping his in the process and then he came tumbling down the tree to land with a _thud _on the ground. "Said Tarzan over here, swinging from the trees."

"You never fail to amuse me, Eva." He got up and dusted himself off.

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, you know."

He grinned. "I do know, however, that we are both missing the beginning of the royal banquet ceremony."

"Your mother must be grieving with your absence."

"I'm sure yours will be beside herself when my mother is informed of your non-attendance, as a distraction from my own."

"Coward." I glared, giving him a playful push.

"Indeed." A new voice proclaimed. It caught me a little off guard and I jumped back. _Serena_. Evan's older sister, named after Queen Vasilisa's ex-guardian, blonde hair and crystal blue eyes alike her fathers. She was only two years older than I was, but she was incessantly bossy and very into the political and social life of the royals.

The only vivid memory I had whenever I thought of her was the time I had babysat the youngest Ozera-Dragomir; Emelie Rosalisa. She was only three at the time, now four of age, and possibly the most intrigued little toddler, venturing into anything and everything you could imagine. And I had lost her. Just that one time, because there were no more times after that one.

_"Oh. My. Goodness. How is it even possible to lose a toddler barely capable of crawling?" Serena demanded to know. "Emelie, come out come out wherever you are," she paused to spare one more scathing look at me. "This is all your fault, I'm telling mother on you."_

_"Princess," I scoffed. But the insult was invalid considering she literally was one._

_Seconds later, a meek, raven haired girl crawled over from the back of the room and I looked frantically to see where she had emerged from. Big green eyes looked into the black depths of my own, and I held her, almost robotically but the young girl hadn't any cares. She was just playing, after all. Serena, however, was just as snarky, maybe even more so then the stories told of her and whispered behind her back. Nobody could understand how she was her mother's daughter at all._

"Evie, was it? Ava?" Her tall, looming figure hovered over mine, a smug look hat _should _have appeared ill-suited on the face of a mousy, unassertive girl, but Serena was nothing alike her siblings. "Eva." I automatically responded out of proclivity to correct. "You know that."

She smirked, and I cringed and gritted my teeth. "So I do, how unfortunate for you."

"What do you _want_, Serena?" Evan's voice was not only serious, but seriously pissed off.

"I want you _both _to be at the Royal banquet in five, no later." And with that, she spun on her heels and left.

"_Winning._"

"Shut up," I growled at Evan and stalked off after his sister, I was sure he followed close behind.

What awaited me, was probably equal to or worse. "It's rude to make a lady wait, Aves."

"Don't pretend you didn't miss me, Maya." I retorted, resisting a smirk. Only kidding, Maya was my best friend. My father was good friends with her family. She was half Russian, like me, only her accent was a lot thicker because that's where she grew up. I grew up at the Royal Court, and I sounded more American like my mother.

Observing her slacking posture, my lips curled, forming a sly grin. "It's also rude to nap during an opening ceremony."

Her lips drew into a coy smile and she simpered. "Where have you been, anyway?"

I thought about it before arriving, the only reasonable excuse was to tell her about Iolanthe. So long as Maya didn't query or fault my explanation.

"After one exceedingly long hour at eliminating the undersized, sugar-coated Moroi, I - "

" - Майя!" We both spun around at the sound of her Russian Pronunciation. "Oh Dearest, there you are." It was her mother, accent thick with Russian.

"My sweet, sweet girl, don't you look grand! Eva, darling, care to join us at the upper east end? It is, after all, where you shall rightfully be seated." Even if Maya's mother was kind in heart, she was terribly in the dark at noticing how I felt about my eminent reputation, continuously drawing me out into the public eye against my wishes. She insisted that the phenomenon of a Dhampoi will stand out nonetheless, and so I was to be encouraged to do so by my own will. But I didn't think that would ever happen.

"No thank you, Miss Vakhrov." I shot Maya a look so apologetic that it did not ought to have been returned with the hardened glare she gave me. "I must find my parents, but thank you for the offer."

I realised, approximately two minutes later that I made the wrong decision. In fact, I should have avoided the whole banquet entirely.

"You're late." The whisper of a stern father made me inch back and I slightly inclined my head towards him apologetically. "I specifically told you - "

"Yeah I know, and I'm sorry." I ducked my head meekly at having interrupted him and avoided the most part of his scowl.  
"We will talk about this at home. For now, stand up straight and show a little respect. The Queen has noted your absence, it's the least you could do now to look the part."

I knew Lissa well, my mother and her used to be bond-mates and so I spent a lot of time around her. Personally, and politically, I supposed. Serena then took that moment to strut in from the left side of the podium, head held high and sleek blonde hair tied back into a tight bun, wrapped in a pretty braid. It was her eyes, piercing crystal blue, that sent daggers at me as she paraded right into her rightful spot before her audience. Queen _Vasilisa's _people, but no doubt in my mind said that Serena thought it was all _her_s.

"Precious Eva Rozalina Olei Belikov, how very nice of you to join us."

My heart struck and then missed a beat.

"Just the person I had awaited the presence of. Welcome everyone, and thank you for giving me a moment of your time to express in a grave matter, just how important it is to me that your safety is ensured. However," another spared glance at me and I began to feel cold chills run up the lengths of my arms, wondering what my part in this would be.

"It has become clear to me that our enemies are well aware of such _healing_, shall we say. Lest they believe them, and since our Spirit users are few, and the healing must therefore be of great reduction until we find more suitable ways... I believe we do have one person, yet to experiment."

For someone who had a way of words, I stood there dumbfounded and never more at a loss then I was then. She gestured towards me, her chin held high.

I took a step forward.

"That's quite enough!" Queen Vasilisa's shrill voice erupted from her throne seat and she held up a hand to berate her daughter. "It has been made _very _clear that Eva's safety is crucial, just where exactly are you going with this?"

Serena didn't so much as take a step back, but passed off her mother's presence. Puerile games. Nothing was beneath her, it seemed. And apparently this was not a part of the script. And sadly, it looked as though I was about to be a part of the first chapter of her wicked games.

"Oh but mother, how greater of a way to see for ourselves how she'd fair against the Strigoi."

My dark eyes bored into her light ones, and barely another second passed before I lunged at her.

[_Reviews are welcomed! I am just starting to get back into writing so I am trying to give my chapters a bit more length, and I value everyone's opinions!]_


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